Z Sold! Complete
by Fanatical Writer
Summary: Penelope Garcia had never been an impulse buyer, so when she purchased Derek Morgan at a bachelor auction, no one was more surprised than she was! Now she was going to have to spend the night with him--and who knew where THAT was going to lead?
1. Going Once

"What if no one wants me?" Reid asked again. He'd asked the question ten thousand times over the last five days, and it was getting exhausting. She was about to ask him if she looked fat just to get even. She hated trick questions.

"Reid, honey, _someone_ is going to want you," Penelope said patiently. He was adorable even if he was annoying. Like a woman on a three day diet, Reid had spent the last week working out in the gym with Morgan. Of course it hadn't done him a lick of good, but his heart was in it. Penelope was turning around to pick up her phone when she noticed _her_ in the bullpen. She growled involuntarily, eliciting a grin from Reid.

He watched Penelope as she spied on the goings-on outside of her office. Marissa Smithsonian, a fellow agent, walked up behind Derek, and then leaned down to whisper something in his ear. Derek nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Stupid bitch," Penelope muttered. The woman just _had_ to have legs up to her neck, a perfect complexion, and breasts that practically pointed to the ceiling.

"Garcia, why don't you just ask him out?" Reid asked in amusement.

"Who?" she asked distractedly.

"Morgan."

Her gaze flew to his face. "Why would I do that?" The pitch of her voice was elevated.

Reid cleared his throat. "Well, so these bouts of jealousy would be justified for one thing."

Penelope's eyes narrowed. "I am _not _jealous," she lied.

Reid put his hands in his pockets and nodded. "OK," he said, unconvinced.

Penelope gave him a dirty look. "Hmmm," she said underhandedly. "I hope no one wants you tonight!"

Reid's jaw dropped at the prospect of being humiliated. "Take it back, Garcia!" he begged.

"I will not," she said, remaining firm.

"Garcia—" Reid said again. But it was too late. Like a hurricane, she'd already collected her things and exited her office. Reid watched her make her way out of the BAU. She was glaring daggers at Marissa the entire time. He grinned. Tonight was certainly going to be interesting.

___

Penelope checked her list again, counting off the items on her hand. She'd gone to get waxed after work—_that_ had been quite an adventure—she'd shaved her legs, her toenails were painted hot pink, her make up was done, her hair was up in a sophisticated style that made her look alluring (she grinned at the thought), and she had her new strapless bra on. Sure, it had cost a fortune, but sometimes it was expensive to be sexy. Penelope turned sideways in the mirror and put her hands underneath her breasts, pushing them up a bit. She lifted an eyebrow at the picture. This bra had been worth every cent.

She made her way out of the bathroom and down the hallway to her bedroom, and then slipped the little black dress she'd bought over her head. It had a V neck and the straps tied at the nape of her neck, just long enough to dangle a tad. There was a little bit of skin showing, but the back of her dress started just above her bra line. It fell to just above her knees, loose and flowy, and the black strappy sandals she'd bought were going to set it off perfectly. After fixing her dress just right, she sat down on her bed and put some vanilla scented lotion on her legs and arms, then reached for the sandals. They'd cost more than double the what she'd paid for the bra, but it wasn't every night a girl got to attend a function like this one. After what she'd coughed up for the ticket, she was going to make it worth it. And who knew, maybe even _she'd _get lucky tonight.

___

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Penelope muttered as she shot down the stairs as fast as her shoes would allow. She grabbed her coat and headed out her front door, making her way to Prentiss' car. "Impatient much?" she asked as Emily took off before she'd even gotten her door closed.

Emily winced. "I'm sorry. The ambassador called and I hadn't talked to her in over two months. She had _plenty _to say, and I felt guilty just hanging up on her. Now we're gonna be late."

"So what?" Penelope asked. "Were you planning on bringing company home?"

Prentiss laughed. "No. But Reid is one of the first ones out and I don't wanna miss the look on his face."

Penelope joined in her friends' laughter. "It _is_ gonna be good," she agreed.

___

The girls checked their coats, and then made their way to the bar. Emily ordered a glass of wine, and Penelope followed suit, then they made their way to the stage. And just in the nick of time. Hotch was standing center stage—announcing the next _victim_. "His name is Spencer Reid, he's been with the F.B.I. now for six years, and ladies, if you think size doesn't matter, you should see the size of this man's…brain!" Hotch finished.

The catcalling began as soon as Reid walked out from behind the curtain, and the fact that this was painful for him was apparent. His face was beet red and Penelope saw Derek's hand shoot out from behind the curtain to give him a solid shove forward. Reid continued down the makeshift runway, barely making eye contact with the crowd.

"Oh! Poor Reid," Prentiss said with a laugh. "It hurts just to watch him."

"Hey," they heard a friendly voice say.

"Oh, hey, Haley," Penelope said. "Look at your husband up there all handsome in his tux!" she teased.

Haley made a purring sound in her throat. "That's my man," she said.

"You know, I bet if Reid had known about this little tradition, he never would have joined Morgan and Hotch at the fire department," Prentiss said. They music was loud, but they could hear each other just fine with their raised voices.

Penelope grinned. "I'm sure of it," she agreed, her spine stiffening.

She could _smell_ her before she saw her. She swung around, and there, less than ten feet behind her was Marissa Smithsonian. Penelope scowled, her gaze returning to Reid on the stage. This was going to be a _long_ night.

___

"Come on, ladies. The money goes to charity," Hotch reminded the crowd. Not that he needed to—Reid had no cause for worry. The women were in a bidding frenzy over him. He was standing there in his khaki's—a white button up shirt underneath—and a blue blazer. His hands were in his pockets and he looked so awkwardly adorable that Penelope contemplated on bidding. But it was up to two thousand dollars now, and that was way out of her price range.

"Two-thousand! Do I hear twenty five hundred?" Hotch asked. "How about twenty two fifty?"

"Five thousand dollars," they heard a firm voice say.

A hush went over the crowd, and everyone turned to see who had bid five thousand dollars on the awkward young man gracing the stage. That was when the murmuring began.

"Sold!" Hotch said, pointing to the woman in the back. "To…Lila Archer?!"

Reid's head snapped up and he scanned the crowd, his gaze finally finding Lila. She grinned at him, lifting a hand in a small wave. He waved back and just stood there stunned.

Hotch cleared his throat and the sound was heard through the room. "Congratulations, Reid," he said.

Taking his cue, the young man exited the stage. But not before a round of awe's went up at the loss of a night spent with Spencer Reid.

___

"Who called her?" Reid asked, practically bouncing up behind Prentiss, Haley, and Garcia.

Penelope cocked an eyebrow at him "I did. On Monday. After you had that mini meltdown in my office? When you thought no one was gonna buy you?"

Reid grinned sheepishly. "I owe you," he said.

She nodded. "Yes, you do," she told him.

He nodded, taking her by the elbow and steering her away from her friends. "And I'm gonna pay you back right now with a piece of advice."

Penelope nodded expectantly.

"Bid on him," he said.

"Reid—"

"He's not interested in her, Garcia. I believe his exact words were, 'My skin crawls when she's around,'" he informed her.

Penelope's eyes widened. "Spencer Reid, if you are lying to me—"

He shook his head. "I am not lying to you," he said.

Penelope sighed. But she wasn't going to do it. She didn't have the balls.

___

"Ladies, _this_ man fetched a higher price than any other at last years' auction," Hotch said in a deep voice. "He works for the F.B.I., teaches self defense classes, and his hobbies include working out, walking his dog, and chasing the ladies. We saved the best for last—Derek Morgan!"

The sound level in the room rose when Derek threw the curtain back and stepped forward. He stopped, tilting his head to the side and giving a shameless grin. Penelope groaned inwardly as he strutted down the stage. He was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a fitted black t-shirt, every muscle in his upper body just waiting to burst through the material. She tossed back the whiskey sour she'd switched to a few men ago. Then she headed to the bar for another one. Stupid volunteer firefighters and their stupid perfect bodies.

By the time she got back to the stage, the bidding was up to fifteen hundred dollars, and Derek was shaking his hips. _Oh, come on,_ she thought. Surely that was worth six thousand.

"Do I hear two thousand?" Hotch asked.

"Two thousand!"

"Twenty five hundred!" another voice shouted.

"Twenty seven fifty!"

"Four thousand dollars!" Marissa Smithsonian said, making her move.

Penelope sighed, shifting her stance to put her weight on her other foot. She sure as hell didn't want Marissa Smithsonian taking Derek home tonight, but what was she going to do? It wasn't like she had the money to bid on him.

She heard a clearing throat beside her. She looked over and Lila was standing there with a grin. She shrugged carelessly. "So, I'm gonna donate another five grand anyway," she said. "For the kids. So, if you want to bid on him—"

"Why would I want to do that?" Penelope asked shrilly.

"Because your pupils are dilated and your hands are in fists," Reid said, joining the conversation.

Penelope forced her hands to relax. "No, they're not," she muttered.

"Going once," Hotch said.

Penelope sighed and grabbed Prentiss' drink from her hand, downing it in one swallow.

"What the…" Prentiss started.

"Oh my god, I hope they take checks!" Penelope said as she grabbed Emily's arm. She used it to steady herself as she climbed up on the table top behind them.

"Garcia, what in the hell are you doing?" Prentiss asked.

"Going Twice!" Hotch continued.

"Don't bid more than Lila did!" Reid begged.

"Four thousand nine hundred ninety nine dollars and ninety nine cents!" Penelope bid breathlessly.

"Sold!" Hotch said. "To the…second most beautiful blonde in the room."

He looked at Haley and winked.

Derek's eyes flew to Penelope's and she could feel her face reddening. His eyes widened, then continued to peruse her entire body in appreciation. He lifted an eyebrow at her and all she could do was smile helplessly.

What in the _hell_ had she just done?


	2. Going Twice

_**Author's Note: So, this shouldn't come as much of a surprise, but this is going to be a threeshot instead of a twoshot. My apologies!**_

"_I fetched a higher price than Morgan!" Reid said excitedly._

"_JJ is gonna be __**so**__ devastated that she missed this!" That came from Prentiss._

"'_Bout damn time," Haley quipped._

Derek heard the words, but none of them were registering. It was as if time was suspended while his gaze remained fixed on Penelope. Had she _really _just bought him? He'd been trying to get her to go out with him for_ months_, and she'd just paid almost five thousand dollars to spend the evening with him? What in the _hell_ was going on?

___

She didn't think that anyone else's stare could make her more nervous—that is, until Penelope felt _Hotch's _stare on her. She could practically hear his thoughts. "My Technical Analyst just bought one of my agents?" She winced at the notion, her eyes returning to Derek's. His gaze slid down her entire body before returning to her face, and she couldn't help but wonder if he liked what he saw.

Lila cleared her throat, and Penelope realized she was still standing on the table and that every eye in the room was on her. Suddenly the black strappy sandals didn't seem like such a good idea. It was time to get down off the table and she wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't fall flat on her face.

"Reid," she heard Lila say, nodding in Penelope's direction.

Reid sprung into action. "Right," he said, grabbing the nearest chair and turning it around as if it were a step for Penelope. He reached for her hand, and she gave him a thankful smile, daintily stepping down off the tabletop. She made it to the floor without tripping.

Derek had left the stage and Hotch was giving his closing speech, thanking everyone for their donations and saying good bye until next year. Penelope sat down at the table, Prentiss on one side of her, Haley on the other. Reid and Lila made their way to the bar.

"_What_ were you thinking?" Emily asked urgently.

Haley grinned. "I know _exactly_ what she was thinking," she said over her glass of wine.

"You have to give him back!" Emily insisted.

Penelope gave her friend a dirty look. "No," she said firmly.

"Listen, maybe Marissa Smithsonian will cough up the other…nine hundred and ninety nine dollars and ninety nine cents," Emily kept on.

"Marissa Smithsonian can go to _hell,"_ Penelope said harshly.

"Tell us how you really feel, Garcia," Hotch said as he pulled out the chair next to his wife and sat down.

"I'm good," she croaked.

She desperately wanted a drink to calm her nerves, but didn't think it was such a good idea. She needed to come up with a plausible explanation as to why she'd just purchased Derek Morgan—one besides 'I was overcome with insane jealousy.'

She supposed she could blame the aliens—they were always a good scapegoat. Or she could just admit the fact that she wanted to spend the night with him. She almost laughed aloud at the thought. _That_ was not an option. She looked around—all of the other men had come out onto the floor and were mingling with the women who'd purchased them, but Derek was still nowhere to be found. Maybe he'd snuck out the back. Maybe he didn't want to spend the night with her! Maybe…she was overreacting. _Penelope Garcia, get a hold of yourself_! she scolded. She took a deep breath. Humor. Yep. That's what she'd use for her buffer—good old humor.

"So, Lila," Hotch said as she and Reid returned to the table. "What brought you to Virginia?" he questioned with a knowing grin.

She looked at Reid and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "My favorite F.B.I. agent," she said, her face glowing. It was clear she adored him.

"Yeah, we need to go soon, because Lila's flight leaves tomorrow at noon. She needs to be on set," Reid said proudly.

"You _do_ realize that you only purchased him until midnight, right?" Hotch joked.

Lila turned to Reid again and gave him a sultry grin. "What are you gonna do if I tie you up and keep you past midnight?" she teased.

"Not a damn thing," Reid returned, standing up. "Yeah, we're actually gonna leave _now_," he said abruptly.

"But Reid, I just got my drink," she said.

He grabbed both their drinks. "Plastic cups, Lila. They're mobile. Let's go!"

Lila stood up and smiled weakly. "It was _really_ great to see all of you again. And to meet you, Haley," she said politely. "I will…see you next time."

"Lila!"

"Right behind you, baby," she said, practically sprinting toward Reid.

"Have a good night!" Haley yelled.

Hotch grinned. "Oh, something tells me they will," he said.

All of a sudden Reid appeared at their table again. "Oh, and if any of you want to taunt Morgan about me fetching a higher price, I'm not opposed to that," he informed them.

"Good _night_, Reid," Prentiss said.

"I'm just saying—" Reid said. He turned to Penelope. "Thanks again," he said sincerely.

She smiled back at him. "Anytime."

Reid left once again, and Hotch turned to his wife. "Would you like to dance?" he asked. It was adorable how respectful he was with her.

Haley nodded with a grin. "Let's show 'em how it's done," she said, standing up and taking her husbands hand.

"Where _is_ he?" Penelope snapped when she and Emily were alone at the table.

"I don't know," Emily said as she stood.

"Where are you going?" Penelope asked desperately.

Emily grinned. "To the bar."

"But what if Derek comes out while you're gone?" she asked irrationally.

"Then you…talk to him," Emily said.

Penelope jumped to her feet. "I'm coming with you."

"OK."

___

Halfway to the bar, Penelope spied Derek walking towards her and took a deep breath. _Humor, humor, humor,_ she reminded herself.

"They were playing Hot Stuff while you were on the stage," she said in a teasing tone.

He laughed. "Did you pick it out?" he returned.

"No," she said. "But it was a fantastic choice."

"What did you think of Reid's 'I'm Too Sexy,'" he asked.

Penelope frowned and shook her head. "Not a good fit."

Derek laughed. "I know. That's why I picked it out."

Penelope laughed. "_You_ picked it out?"

Derek nodded solemnly. "Were you on your way to the bar?" he asked.

She nodded, and he took her elbow, steering her towards the bar. She spied Emily, who had been intercepted on the way back to their table and was now making her way to the dance floor with a man Penelope didn't recognize.

Derek ordered them both drinks, and then they made their way back to the table.

They sat there for a moment in silence before either one said anything. Derek was leaning back in his chair, one hand resting on the neck of his beer bottle. "You bought me," he said with a grin.

"I was _saving_ you from Marissa Smithsonian," she corrected him. She could feel her cheeks turning pink.

His grin widened. "You _bought_ me because you wanted me," he informed her.

"I…I…" Sweet Lord, she was flabbergasted.

"Spit it out, Garcia," he said in a teasing tone.

She cleared her throat. "I might want you a little bit," she muttered.

"There it is!" he said slapping his knee.

"Hey!" she said. "Don't _make_ me take it back."

"You couldn't now if you wanted to," he told her, taking a sip of his beer. "I see this…lust in your eyes."

She laughed. "You _do_ not."

"Oh, I do," he said lowly, sitting up straight. He rested his elbows on the table, his head turned towards her.

She shifted uncomfortably.

"It's like…if you can't have me now, you're going to _explode_," he teased.

Penelope threw back her head and laughed heartily. "_You_ are something else, Derek Morgan," she told him.

He grinned, taking pleasure in just watching her. Her throat was creamy white—probably soft, and Derek was certain that if the room were empty, he would have taken her in his arms just for a taste. He nearly shivered at the thought. Luckily he was interrupted by Hotch and Haley.

Hotch cleared his throat. "We need to go," he said.

His wife nodded. "The babysitter has to leave at nine," she said. Haley wasn't a very good liar.

"Hopefully Jack's in bed," Hotch said thickly.

Haley grinned at her husband. "Which is _exactly_ where we'll be," they heard her say to him as they walked away. Penelope tilted her head to the side and watched as Hotch wrapped an arm protectively around his wife's waist. Haley returned the gesture.

"Well, my boss is clearly getting laid tonight," Derek said jokingly.

Penelope grinned, her gaze returning to his face. "Jealous?" she teased.

He shook his head. "Not at all. _I'm_ going home with _you_." He stood up. "Let's dance," he said, reaching for her hand.

Penelope stood up and followed as Derek led her to the dance floor. Coincidentally, they were playing Hot Stuff, and Derek and Penelope pulled out some outrageous dance moves trying to make each other laugh.

Emily and the guy she was dancing with made their way over, and joined in, the four of them in stitches on the dance floor. A few songs later, the D.J. switched to a slow one, and Derek took Penelope in his arms, swaying them in time to the music. His hands were at her waist, and all of a sudden, it dawned on him. He moved his hands roughly up and down—from her waist to her thighs.

"Derek, what are you doing?" she hissed, her hands falling to his, holding them still on her hips.

"Garcia," he said his mouth suddenly dry. "You aren't wearing any panties."

She smiled weakly. "It's the best way to avoid panty lines."

"Pe-_nel-_ope Garcia," Derek said in appreciation. "Who knew you were so naughty?"


	3. Sold!

_Author's Note: So, I'm sorry to say that I'm a horrible predictor. There will be one more part--and I promise that's it! Morgan and Garcia just need more page time than I wanted to give them. LOL_

"We need to get the hell out of here," Derek said.

Penelope took his hands and returned them to her waist. "What's your hurry?" she asked with a laugh.

But there was no humor in Derek's eyes as they locked on hers. "I wanna get you into bed," he admitted.

Penelope froze right there on the dance floor. It took a squeeze from Derek's hands to prompt her to move again.

"I—"

He gave her an expectant look.

She cleared her throat. "This is the second time you've stunned me in one night," she told him.

He reached for her wrists and pulled her arms around his waist, holding them at his back. It forced her to take a step forward, her chest against his. "Did I scare you away?" he asked, keeping them moving with the music.

She shook her head slowly, still not sure what to say. He wasn't lying—he definitely wanted her. She could feel the proof beneath the zipper of his jeans.

"What do you say, Garcia?" he asked.

She grinned at him. "You _better_ be worth it."

He returned her grin, and taking her hand, he led her off the dance floor.

___

Neither spoke as Derek opened his car door for her, and they remained silent for the entire ride to the hotel, both anticipating the events that were sure to unfold.

Penelope was surprised to find that all they needed to do was check in. Derek had already reserved a room. That thought didn't sit well with her as they rode the elevator up to their floor. When the doors slid open, she followed Derek to their room and watched as he slid the keycard in the lock. He turned around, his back against the door while he stepped backwards to open it. He held the door ajar as she walked in. She came to a stop a few steps into the room.

"You…rented…this room?" she asked warily.

Derek nodded, a corner of his lips lifting in a grin.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "OK. Umm…I can't do this," she said anxiously.

"What?" Derek asked confused.

"You rented this room, Derek. And you had no idea who you were going home with! I can't…_do_ this." She turned to go.

"Not so fast, baby girl," he said, gently taking hold of her elbow before she could make her hasty exit.

"I didn't rent this room for whoever won me," he clarified. "I rented this room for _us_. I rented this _room_…because I want to be with _you_."

"But—"

"Sssh sssh sssh," he said, putting a finger to her lips. He sighed. "Did you even wonder why it took me so long to get to you after the auction?" he asked, his hand falling to his side.

She really didn't want to answer that, but knew she had no choice when he refused to go on until she spoke. "Yes," she said begrudgingly.

"I had to make a phone call. For…" He swept his arm across the room. "Rose petals and…champagne and…chocolate covered strawberries," he told her, his voice gruff.

"Oh," she said in a small voice. She'd been so preoccupied with _him_ that she hadn't even noticed the room. She took the opportunity now to look around. There _was _a tray next to the bed, two crystal glasses and a bottle of champagne sitting there. The sheets were smothered in red rose petals, and Penelope followed the trail with her eyes, right to her own feet.

"For _you,_" he told her.

Her eyes lifted to his, and she gave him a stern glare.

He couldn't help but smirk. "And maybe a little for me," he conceded. He studied her face for a moment. "Do you still wanna go?" he asked softly.

Penelope didn't say anything, just shook her head.

"Good. Because this night has been a long time coming," he told her.

She lifted an eyebrow at him. "Hopefully you will be, too," she said in what she hoped was a sultry voice.

"Sweet Lord, Garcia! It's a _damn_ good thing you don't say that stuff over the phone, or we'd both be in a mountain of trouble!"

His comment made her laugh and he grinned back at her. She walked to the door, and closed it, leaning against it.

They both stood there for a moment, staring at each other.

"Are you gonna make me come to you?" he asked.

"Don't you have to do what I say?" she shot back instead of answering.

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "If that's what you want."

She shook her head. "It's not what I want."

"What _do_ you want, Garcia?" he asked.

She tilted her head to the side. "Just you," she told him.

He nodded. "Done," he said, stalking towards her.

Before he could reach her, her hands shot out and grabbed the collar of his brown leather jacket, pulling him to her.

His arms shot out to keep his balance, his hands landing on the door—one on each side of her head. His eyes darkened as he looked down at her.

She was taking shallow breaths and he could see her chest rising and falling with each one. She lifted her lips to his, but just before they met he pulled away, teasing her. This was gonna be their first kiss, and he wanted to make it good.

She looked up at him questioningly, and he grinned, his mouth swooping down onto hers.

Her hands came up to the back of his head to hold him in place and she rose up on her tiptoes—she didn't need to, he wasn't that much taller than she was—but she was frantic to get closer to him.

He heard her whimper as her tongue plunged into his mouth, searching for his. She tasted sweet—better than he imagined. His tongue caressed hers while his hands came up to rest on her upper back. He pulled her close to him and felt her nipples harden through the soft material of his t-shirt. His hands came down to her shoulders and his fingertips traced a path down to her wrists, before coming up to rest on the fabric underneath her chest. He pulled his lips from hers, and used his hands to lift her breasts, his mouth kissing the flesh peeking out of the v neck.

He suddenly remembered that she wasn't wearing any panties—how in the hell had he forgotten _that?_—and reached for the hem of her dress. He lifted it with one hand, his other reaching for the curls between her legs. "Derek, what are you…oh!" she cried when his fingers found her core. She hastily grabbed her dress and yanked it up to her hips for him, freeing up both his hands.

"Derek," she said desperately, as his fingers circled her core in a rapid rhythm. "I'm not gonna be able to stand up for this."

"Stand for as long as you can," he told her, reaching behind her and lifting her leg. Her knee was level with his hips, her balance on one leg.

"Derek," she said as his thumb replaced his fingers, moving back and forth to drive her crazy.

She was soft and hot—just the way a woman should be. He felt her body go slack, and pulled away.

"You OK?" he asked, looking down at her.

"My legs feel like jelly," she admitted.

He grinned at her. "They spread just as easily, too," he teased.

"Hey," she said half-heartedly.

"I'm not gonna stop until you can't stand up anymore," he informed her.

She nodded helplessly. She certainly wasn't in a position to argue.

His thumb continued its tempo, skilled and rough against her center.

Her eyes closed and she tilted her head back against the door, revealing the creamy white of her throat. He lowered his lips to her skin, his teeth skimming the flesh.

"Derek!" she cried, her body shuddering involuntarily.

"Yeah, baby girl?" he asked huskily.

"I can't…" Her voice trailed off as her body sagged against the door. He could feel her thighs quivering.

"Don't you dare give out on me," he warned her.

She laughed breathlessly, her eyes still closed. "I don't think I can help it."

He patted the leg he was holding. "Wrap it around me as tight as you can," he instructed. She followed his order, her leg tightening around his waist. He wrapped his arm around _her _waist, using his strength to hold her up. He never broke his pace, his thumb hard at work. She moaned again, and he felt her body stiffen beneath his hold. Her hands came up to his shoulders, clenching the material of his t-shirt.

"Derek," she said breathlessly.

"Just let it go, Garcia," he coached softly.

Her breathing increased until she gave a final moan, and then her body slumped forward, her forehead resting on his shoulder.

"That was nice," she said with a sigh.

"No, Garcia," he corrected as the leg she had wrapped around him straightened. "That was fuckin' hot."

She giggled at his assessment. "Yeah," she agreed. "It _was_."

"You should never wear panties again," he suggested.

Penelope nearly came out of her skin at the knock on the door behind her, and Derek burst out laughing.

"Room service," the voice on the other side of the door said.

"I'll be right back," Penelope said, grabbing her purse off the floor and heading for the bathroom. She studied herself in the mirror and freshened her make up—if she was gonna sleep with Derek Morgan she was damn well gonna look her best. After she'd done what she could, she walked back into the main part of the suite.

Derek's shirt had disappeared—sweet mercy—and he was holding a silver platter. Complete with strawberries, whipped cream, chocolate syrup—and one hell of a smile.

This night just kept getting better and better.


	4. to the Technical Analyst on the table!

They'd made their way to the bed, and while Derek's lips were hitting all the right spots, she wasn't able to concentrate. So she pushed him away. "Have you ever gone out with Marissa Smithsonian?" she asked pointblank.

Derek sighed as he collapsed onto the mattress beside her. "What?" he asked in disbelief. She was thinking about another woman? His game must be waaaay off.

"Have you ever gone out with Marissa Smithsonian?" she repeated.

Derek groaned. "Garcia, I am in a hotel room. With _you._ The _last_ thing I want to be discussing is Marissa Smithsonian. I've been waiting a long time…for _this_."

"Oh, you have not," she said, giving him a light slap on the arm.

He gave her a stern look.

"_Have_ you?" she asked in shock.

"How many times have I asked you out?"

"You have _never_ asked me out," she said with certainty.

"Really? How many times have I had two tickets somewhere, and you're never available?" he asked.

"Well…you weren't asking me _out_," She argued.

"Wasn't I?" he shot back.

"_Were_ you?"

He laughed as he nodded. "Yes. You're a _hard_ woman to ask out, Penelope Garcia."

"You…you _wanted_ to go out with me?"

"Yes! That's why I asked."

Penelope didn't know what to say. So she said nothing, just lay there. She lifted a hand to her head, running her fingers through it in thought.

"Talk to me," Derek commanded.

"I…I'm feeling like a fool," she told him honestly.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because here I've been…insanely attracted to you all this time, and you've felt the same way."

"Actually…I don't," he said.

She turned to look at him.

He grinned at her. "I'm not insanely attracted to _me._ I'm insanely attracted to _you_."

She lifted an eyebrow at him. "Thank _God_," she said in a teasing tone.

Derek laughed as he lifted himself up and leaned over to kiss her. "So, can we get forget about Marissa Smithsonian and get back to _us?_ I think we're a _hell_ of a lot more interesting."

She smiled softly at him as she nodded.

"Good," he said, as he sat up. He threw a leg over her belly so he was straddling her. "Can you untie your dress for me?" he asked.

She nodded, her eyes on his as she lifted her neck off the bed and reached up behind her to loosen the tie. She leaned back and pulled the straps in front of her. Derek reached out and took them from her hands and pulled the front of her dress beneath her breasts. He growled at the sight. "_That_ has to go next," he said, moving down to her thighs so she could sit up and undo her bra.

There was barely an inch between them as she reached behind and unbuckled her bra. It had just fallen to her waist when Derek reached up and skimmed his palms over her nipples. They hardened underneath his touch, and he moved his hands aside, then leaned down and covered her peak with his mouth.

"Derek," she gasped.

"Sssh," he scolded. "I'm enjoying this."

So was _she._

When he pulled his mouth away to say the words, the cool air against her skin made her shiver. He returned his mouth to her breast, his tongue moving back and forth roughly over her nipple. He moved to the other one, lavishing it with the same consideration.

When he pulled away, he looked up and her head was thrown back. Derek leaned forward, his mouth trailing kisses across her neck. He could feel her pulse beating rapidly underneath his lips. She fell back on the mattress, and he went with her, his kisses becoming quicker and harder. He straightened his legs, and his thighs were resting between hers. She lifted her knees, her legs at an angle as the bottoms of her feet came to rest on the sheet. He felt her thighs tighten against his, as if to hold him in place. He pulled his upper body away from hers and reached up, tugging at the back of his t-shirt. He pulled it over his head and tossed it off to the side as he looked down at Penelope.

She grinned up at him and suddenly all he wanted was to be inside of her. He stood up and unbuttoned his jeans, and she was immediately at his side. She began to shimmy out of her dress, and his hands stilled, his eyes glued to her. It wasn't until the fabric pooled at her feet that he was able to finish undressing himself.

He straightened and reached for the stand beside the bed. His eyes met hers, and he grinned, shaking the can he was holding. He took a step towards her, and squeezed a trail of whipped cream along the curve in her neck and across her shoulder.

She started to laugh, and he leaned down, licking and sucking at her skin. Her laughter died in her throat, a sigh escaping from her lips. "This is gonna be messy," she said.

"Damn," Derek said with mock disappointment. He smirked at her. "I guess we'll just have to shower, then."

"Now _there's_ an idea," she said throatily, pulling the whipped cream from his hand. She lifted an eyebrow, a smirk of her own gracing her face, and fell to her knees before him. She shook the can, then made a trail along his length. The coolness of the whipped cream caused him to shiver, but it was soon replaced with the heat from her mouth. She moved her tongue around him, then put her mouth on just his tip and began to suck.

Derek growled and reached down for her shoulders. He gave them a soft tug, and she looked up at him questioningly.

"If you keep that up, I'm gonna come," he told her. "And I want the first time I come for you, to be _inside_ of you."

She stood, throwing the whipped cream to the side and moved backwards towards the bed, her gaze never leaving his. She lay down on the bed as he stood there watching her, then spread her legs. Derek moved to the bed and resumed his position between her legs. "Lift your hips," he commanded.

She did as he told her, and he reached for a pillow, placing it beneath her hips. "You ready?" he asked huskily.

She nodded, and he reached down between her legs to make sure. He slid a finger inside of her, pleased to find her wet and ready. He removed his finger, and leaned down to kiss her. His tongue slid slowly inside of her mouth as his length slid slowly inside of her opening. His hands reached for hers, and he laced their fingers together.

When he'd pushed fully inside of her, she lifted her hips higher and wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him. "Just…stay here for a minute," she begged.

He brought his lips to hers again, his kiss tender and sweet.

After a moment, he began to move his hips, his rhythm slow and steady. His gaze never left hers; his pace never quickened.

Penelope had never had it happen like this before. Her body would stiffen as if getting ready for release, then Derek would stop, holding himself inside of her again, pausing for a moment before resuming his pace. Her body was hot and slick, and she was ready. "Derek," she begged.

His hands squeezed hers, and this time, when he began to move, his pace was swift and sure. He thrust in and out of her over and over again until she felt her body stiffen for the last time. "Derek," she finally whimpered.

He felt her knees tighten around his waist and pushed inside of her for the last time, his body collapsing down onto hers with a satisfied grunt.

His felt her body begin to shake and lifted his head to study her face.

Her eyes were dancing and she was biting her lower lip, until a giggle escaped. When it did, it was as if a damn broke and she couldn't stop.

"What in the _hell_ are you laughing at?" he asked.

She sighed contentedly. "That was _so _much better than I ever imagined."

"Not _that_ is what a guy likes to hear," he said, his mouth coming down onto hers.

___

A few hours later, Derek grinned at Penelope. "I think I purchased these sheets," he told her, lifting his head to look at the chocolate smudges on the white linens.

Penelope grinned. "Good. We can reuse them. There's no sense in ruining another set."

"Darlin'," Derek said in a low tone. "If you wanna do that again, I'll buy you a set of sheets for every damn day of the week."

Penelope laughed. "No bribing necessary. I will definitely let you do that to me again. I might even beg."

Derek chuckled, then reached over and pulled her against him. "You know, if we spend the night and have breakfast, that makes it two dates. And you know what that means," he said solemnly.

"What?" she asked.

"That means we're day-_ting_," he told her.

Penelope groaned and pulled the sheet up over her head. "Oh, my God!" she said.

"What?" Derek asked, pulling the sheet down to reveal her face.

"I put out on our first date," she said. "I'm a slut!"

"One of my very favorite things about you," he teased as his phone beeped. Derek sighed as he read the text message, and then threw the phone across the room.

"Reid again?" Penelope asked, snuggling closer to him.

He tightened his hold on her. "Yep. You couldn't cough up three more pennies?" he teased.

Penelope laughed. "Reid's been good to me lately. I had to give him what he wanted."

"Hot damn, Garcia," Derek said with a laugh. "You keep giving us what we want, and we are gonna have one _happy _Behavioral Analysis Unit," he teased.

Penelope laughed at that.

___

"What are you doing?" Derek asked as he opened his eyes the next morning.

"Just…waiting for you to wake up," she said with a wicked grin.

"What—"

She pulled the sheet off of him and was greeted with the sight of an impressive morning salute. She threw a leg over his hips and lowered herself down onto him.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Just…saying good morning," she said innocently.

"How are you so wet already?" he managed to get out as he thrust his hips upward. It was as if he couldn't get far enough inside of her.

"All it takes is one look at ya," she informed him.

"Do you walk around like this at work?" he asked, his hands grasping her hips. She was wearing his t-shirt and it was too tight for her, but it still looked sexy on her. Especially when he could make out her pebbled nipples through the fabric. That alone was enough to get him off.

"Only sometimes," she said.

"How in the hell—" Before he could finish his sentence, he felt his body go rigid. "Damn," he said.

"Already?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Me, too," she said, as she leaned down to kiss him.

He pushed her away, his breathing ragged.

"How in the hell am I supposed to work all day long knowing you're walking around all wet and ready?" he asked, panic setting in.

She grinned. "It's not _all_ the time," she said.

"Good," he said with a sigh of relief.

"Just when _you're_ there," she said with a sinful grin.

***THE END***


End file.
